U.S.S. Corsair - NX-011979
Nebula II Prototype
“Sic Parvis Magna”
(Greatness From Small Beginnings)
“Reunions – Part IV”
After several hours the group of old friends staggered out of a holodeck aboard Starbase 145. Exhausted, hungry, and still shaking off the effects of their earlier consumption of alcohol, the pilots were noticeably frustrated their egos having been dealt a telling blow.
Despite their best efforts, Captain Ramius was still as sharp in a fighter as he was the last time they had seen him. None of them had been able to best him despite his drunken state. Only Commander Everic had been able to fight Ramius to a draw on several simulations having lost two matches himself against the seemingly unbeatable captain.
The pilots yawned and rubbed their eyes having been up for hours on end drinking, talking, and flying against one another.
Commander Lawrence ‘Mustang’ Everic was the last to exit as the doors slid closed behind him. Stretching from sitting in a cockpit simulator for the last three hours he rubbed his neck. “How the hell do you manage to practice with all of your duties Taverain”, he muttered with an annoyed look.
Ramius shrugged leaning against a nearby bulkhead for support. His arms and legs felt as heavy as lead. “I manage”, he stated. “I tried to warn you – they may have made me a captain, given me a starship, put me in command, but I’m still a pilot and I’ll retain that title until they either pull my hands from the flight stick or heaven’s harbinger takes my life.”
“So much for getting one over on Ramius boys. I thought we might actually have a chance tonight”, Mustang muttered.
Grumbles and groans bubbled from the tired pilots who were confident they would be able to best Ramius their skills honed to a razor’s edge. It appeared Ramius also kept his skills in impeccable condition.
“If you gentlemen still want a shot at me, I think I can probably arrange something”, Ramius muttered after a time with a tiny smile.
“Eh”, Mustang replied questioningly shooting Taverain an odd glance.
“I shouldn’t tell you this”, Ramius said, but continued.
“Intelligence. I get the special missions no one else wants or missions no one else needs to know about, if you catch my meaning. I can assure you position aboard the Corsair would be far more entertaining than sitting around this station forever. With the war over, you’re likely to end up being asked to teach, forced into retirement, or be asked to pilot ambassadors and dignitaries around like taxi drivers. Peace is politician’s banner these days. Starfleet needs peacemakers not fighters or soldiers. If that sounds like your cup of tea…”
“Well, how bout it boys. I think the cap’n here is offering us all a job. What do you guys think”, Mustang turned and asked his pilots.
The pilots muttered and talked among themselves for a few moments.
Mustang finally turned back toward Ramius. “Seeing how we’re all a little anxious to do some combat flying instead of sitting around this giant tin can forever waiting on orders, if you can pull the strings, we’ll fly for the Corsair.”
Ramius nodded in approval. He shook Mustang’s hand to seal the deal. “I’ll make the arrangements. Report aboard the Corsair in 48 hours for quarter assignments and to familiarize yourselves with the ship. I should be able to get the paperwork pushed through. I’ll have your birds brought aboard as soon as I can obtain authorization. It’ll be tight, the Corsair isn’t exactly designed for a squadron of fighters, but I need a small, well trained group of pilots with combat experience who can get tough jobs done in ‘impossible’ circumstances. You boys are good, extremely good. You certainly made me work for it tonight.”
“If I didn’t know you better, I’d say you were cheating, but then I know you so…”
“If you boys are on the Corsair, you can take a shot at me anytime. Just say the word.”
“If that isn’t a challenge, I don’t know what is.”
Ramius just smiled.
“Night Tav, we’re going to go sleep this off and lick our wounds. You can go buy your own victory drinks.”
“I’ll see you aboard the Corsair”, Ramius stated.
Mustang nodded as the group headed down the hallway back to their individual quarters. Ramius finally pushed away from the wall exhausted and groggy from drinking and flying. He had to get some sleep.
“Give Commodore Valtren my regards when you talk to him Tav”, Mustang shouted from down the hallway.
Ramius waved in acknowledgement as Mustang and his small band of pilots disappeared down the corridor.
With a tiny smile, Ramius headed back toward the Corsair. Convincing Everic and his pilots to accept assignment on the Corsair had been easy enough. A bad hangover was a small price to pay for their expertise and loyalty. A close personal friend and strong ally, Mustang and his pilots would be a welcome addition to the Corsair’s offensive and defensive capabilities giving him the ability to project power beyond the range of the Corsair’s own formidable weaponry.
He had the task of pushing the paperwork to make his dream a reality, but Admirals in high places made cutting red tape convenient if not easy. Admiral Valtren could see to the transfer paperwork. In a few hours he would have everything he would need to attempt an opening salvo against the NeoDyne Defense Corporation. If could find and capture Dr. Artimis Ballentine and compel the man to talk he could shake the very pillars that formed the base of the corrupt company.
Alistair Merikai could hide in his black corporate tower of glass. It would collapse around him. Ramius would personally see to that. The canons were primed, ready, and aimed. All he needed was ammunition. He just had to find it before the first of many shots could be fired.
Captain Taverain Ramius
Commanding Officer, USS Corsair